Tuesday, May 6, 2003

Dripped Dry

Along with the truck squashing and carrot planting that I did this weekend, I did my laundry.

Very Exciting, you say.

Really. For this first time since I left my parents house I washed and dried my own clothes in my own place.

I have officially thrown away my bonnet! Ma Ingles and I are no longer sharing the secret shame of stiff sheets and crunchy towels.

When you air dry sheets, they take on a linoleumesque quality. Very comfy. Very nice to snuggle up to. I can put on my socks with out first cracking them open, I can do my wash and wear it on the same day! No more pre-treatment! No more stains setting in unto forming their own patterns! Instant gratification. Even better? I no longer have to haunt the laundry mat. As much as I have really enjoyed going on safari every couple of weeks … not going to miss it.

I mean with all the packing up and lugging and keeping track and wild life experience I have racked up, I could be a Sherpa.

I can now fold my laundry in front of the TV like a civilized person, and not some static – y TV tuned to a Mexican soap opera, I can fold in front ofmy static – y TV! tuned to a Mexican soap opera.

Take a dip in my stream of conscience

After I get home from work and take dogger out, I feed dogger and put dogger back in her box for her after dinner chill out. I drink a coke and watch Emergency Vets and try to imagine what my vet would charge for similar catastrophofies. I change clothes and dogger and I go for our walk. Today when I went in to change clothes I noticed that my bed was very comfortable. Really, really comfortable.

Just as I was dozing off and dreaming about my imaginary movie star boyfriend, John Cusack, I felt a wet kitty nose on mine.

Oh, Kitty! Being all like a normal non-mentally ill kitty. Hello Pookie!

“Feed Me.”

It’s not time yet. Come here and be cute.

“Feed Me”

I forget that this animal’s internal clock isn’t set for “Not Time”. It is always time for “Feed Me”.

No, if I feed you, you’ll go upstairs and I won’t see you until “Feed Me”. Stay here and be fluffy. IMSBF needs me. Mummy is tired and dogger can’t walk herself, well, technically, she can, but …

“Feed me or the alarm clock is rubble”

I’m not giving in. I’m resting. I’m resting with a 20 lb fur pillow on my face.

“Feed Me or this turns into a Law and Order”

Noooooooo. Go away. Tease the dogger.

“Feed Me”




In reality, kitty needs me to feed him on demand like he needs somewhere to store his running shoes. Kitty looks like the bastard offspring of a rental tux and a beach ball.

This weekend kitty discovered The Back Yard. He sits out there and plots.

For the first time, he can be outside unescorted - and it not turn into a Lifetime Movie with Tracy Pollen , Kitty opened the screen door and let in hysteria – the Diana Story

Say Anything is on. My IMSBF is calling me.

No comments: